


Dark Impressions 2

by Phynxlegion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phynxlegion/pseuds/Phynxlegion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 15 years from the Battle of Hogwarts, things are slowly changing for the return of a notorious Hogwarts Professor on the run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Burying of Hatchets

Ernie MacMillan ends his jog into the Chief Auror’s office carrying a simple shoe box under his arm. The distinguished box, emblazoned clearly with the silver Paul Smith name, becomes eminently obvious to Delia Ramone. Delia, a recent addition to the ministry’s ranks of Aurors, can’t ignore the name on the box before drawing her eyes to meet Ernie’s. With a welcomed break from her mind-numbing reports on her latest arrest of a murderous witch stalking London’s muggle streets, she recognizes the face of Barrister MacMillan from his countless hours defending some of the criminals she’d personally apprehended. Before she can ask, Ernie fires out his purpose.  
“I have an appointment to see Chief Auror…”  
He’s cut off by Harry Potter exiting his office. Carrying three scrolls, marked clearly for the Minister of Magic, he places them in a basket for delivery. Seeing Ernie, he exclaims seeing his old Hogwarts classmate.  
“Ernie! Delia, can you deliver these to the minister when you go to lunch? Thanks. Ernie, you’re early.”  
Ernie only shakes his head.  
“’Afraid not Harry, I’m 35 minutes late. I got held up downstairs on the Harwich Trial.”  
As Harry nods in understanding, afraid to ask how badly it went for Ernie. The Edwin Harwich trial was mostly a show trial as it was practically public knowledge he was doomed to spend the rest of his natural life in Azkaban for the murder of three muggles and a wizard who happened to step in to defend them. Harry feels bad that Ernie was chosen to defend the man, when no one else wanted to tarnish their names by trying to defend a killer of his apparent level of guilt; but Ernie made it his duty to defend those who were unable or unwilling to defend themselves in court. Harry feels so bad he can only nervously sputter out the obvious question.  
“So…um…how did the trial go?”  
Ernie reaches out and shakes Harry’s hand as they walk towards his office.  
“Oh! He’s been sent to Azkaban. There was never a doubt of the outcome, Harry, he knew that. He got twenty years, but he can be paroled if he straightens himself out. Azkaban has changed a lot since we were kids, you know. He showed he was genuinely remorseful for his actions, and I was able to prove he was an alcoholic. So with treatment, the weight of his actions will severely weigh him down while he serves his time. He told me he wanted to pay his dues, and knew this was the only outcome he could hope to get. At least it wasn’t life.”  
As they walk in, Harry motions for Ron and Delia to join them.  
“I’m aware that the chief parties against this are either not with us anymore, or have dropped their resistance to having her return.”   
Delia clears her throat before speaking.   
“The quill recorder needs for you to speak all names for the official records.”  
Nodding Harry continues.  
“Yes, all parties who previously opposed Constance Marie Hollander’s pardoning for the years leading up to the end of the Dark Lord’s reign, have since either withdrawn their opposition, or have passed on. Now all her actions afterwards are still up for debate and scrutiny, she is not absolved from those alleged crimes, namely the assault on Ministry officials.”  
Ron seethes out in repressed anger.  
“And don’t think I’ve forgotten that she stole my wand!”  
Ernie, having spent every waking moment after that Battle for Hogwarts preparing for this day, interjects his usual calmness in Constance’s defense.  
“For the record, every alleged assault was done in defense of extraordinary methods to capture her.”   
Turning to Harry, he adjusts his blonde strands and stares intently as he refutes his charges.  
“Did you not throw a roof…an entire roof…on top of where she slept? She and Susan Bones would have been killed had it not been for her quick reflexes.”  
Ron immediately answers sheepishly.  
“Look! That was my fault, not Harry’s. My wand went wonky and grabbed the top of the house instead of the window and…”  
Ernie cuts him off.  
“Look, she never killed any ministry official over the past fifteen years while on the run. The six people she did kill were in self-defense, and were bounty hunters operating without official ministry orders. I have already submitted my proof. The law clearly allows for the self-protection and defense against those who utilize deadly force without ministry approval. If anyone else was attacked without provocation and killed the person while defending against lethal spells, would this even be an issue of innocence? My client is guilty of only self-defense and evading an unjust order for arrest. She is willing to submit to your interrogation in a neutral location, but not here at the ministry.”  
As Ron and Delia begin to angrily voice their objections, Ernie intercedes by continuing in a stronger tone.  
“AND…in a gesture of good will, faith, and intentions, she has given me these wands to turn in, so that they may be returned to their lawful owners.”  
Handing the box to Ron, Ernie dips into his coat pocket and extracts Ronald Weasley’s lost wand.  
“She wanted me to personally return this to you Mr. Weasley.”  
Ron jumps from his seat and swipes his old wand from Ernie’s grasp, like a treasured heirloom, as Ernie continues.  
“Ms. Hollander’s actions have NEVER been murderous or lethal in nature. These are the exact definitions you use to justify imprisonment, and she has never been a threat to the public unless they have attacked her first. Look Harry: she wants to come in and stop running. It’s obvious that she can keep this up to her dying days. She had at least eighteen recorded opportunities where she could have killed aurors rather than disarm them. She’s an exceptional witch who tricked the Dark Lord and mustered a significant force of wizards behind everyone’s backs…including yours. You have sworn testimony not just from dark wizards who were defeated by her plans, but other notable wizards who knew her role in the Battle of Hogwarts. Headmaster McGonagall has provided sworn testimony confirming Constance’s orders from then Headmaster Albus Dumbledore; that should be enough for you of all people! With no one voicing their opposition, can we please call a truce and rescind the arrest order?”  
Harry glances around the room at his aurors and notices Ron’s disgruntled but acceptance of rescinding the arrest orders, while the fire in Delia’s eyes as she fishes out her old wand from the box will never be satiated.  
Desperate, Ernie baits Harry on the last trump card he had left, saving it for the right time.   
“The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is ready to green-light the recall of the arrest order; they just want you to buy off on it first.”  
Harry putters out a weak laugh, knowing that Hermione was undoubtedly behind that push. Ron nods his support while the embers still burned brightly in Delia’s eyes to resist, making her shake her head no. Motioning to hand him the box of wands, he opens it up to find his old wand proudly waiting at the top of the stack. After parting company ten years ago, he recovers his old wand and tucks it into his top pocket. Feeling the strong emotions emanating from Delia, he stands and walks Ernie out of his office silently. As they enter the lift, he slams the door closed before Ron or Delia can follow. As his finger waivers, he finds it difficult to choose either the button for the lobby or the floor above to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. With Delia’s anger and hatred burning intensely, the lift pulls away leaving his two best aurors staring in bewilderment, unsure where Harry was heading.


	2. High Tea and Dark Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition begins

Aperating into the city center of Lavenham, Andrew Middleton remembers he was hardly the ideal wizard when he was in school. With his hours in Detention Hall exceeding the Weasley twins, he learned the most fiendish and dastardly methods of humiliation versus physical suffering. Due to his quick and dirty wit, he excelled at Defense Against the Dark Arts, as he was evading and dodging spells all year long. After graduation, he did a short internship at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and he imagined he could one day have his own shop if fate hadn’t intervened and drew him into Auror’s department. Snapping out of his flashback, he sees Delia aperate nearby and stride towards him with her wand up her sleeve, on the ready for trouble. Sighing, he grabs the arm the wand is hidden.  
“This is not an attack or apprehension! If you go off with your wand in hand, it will only create a scene!”   
The anger burning in her eyes is unmistakable and she yanks forcibly tearing her arm from his grip. Her short brown locks spin and fly as she vehemently refuses to be caught off guard again. Constance had surprised her as she exited the loo and broke her nose before liberating her of her wand nearly two years ago. Humiliating her further by magically cocooning her super strong (magically enhanced) used toilet paper, she had to wait two hours before she was found by another witch who easily dismissed the spell. That incident had stopped her progression to becoming the top auror, and the young Andrew stepped into that prestigious position. In her heart she didn’t blame Andrew for being the opportunist he was, even she would have stepped in had he been the one wrapped head to toe with poo imbedded toilet paper. In his commanding voice, he has her stop in her tracks and turn around before continuing.  
“Delia Hammond! You are to stay out here and patrol the grounds with Raymond and Birch. I’m ordering you to stay out of that meeting. You have too much anger in your heart, and you’ll only escalate the situation. This is only a questioning session…an informal deposition. There’s no arrest order anymore, and she hasn’t been charged officially for any specific crimes!”  
Delia seethes in response.  
“Who in the bloody hell do you think you are to order me to do anything!”  
From behind her, Harry Potter forcibly interjects.  
“He is your superior, that’s who! Delia, it’s best you stay out here as he said. Miss Hollander has come here of her own free will, and is willing to sit down and talk to us. And in my honest opinion it’s time we all just put everything into the past and move on. Let me tell you something most witches and wizards didn’t realize after the war was over. The Deatheaters made good people do horrible things to further their cause; but many good wizards also asked the same from good people. There’s enough evidence to prove that she could have been asked by leaders of the Order to sleep with the enemy…no matter the cost. Unfortunately, many of those leaders died before the war ended, and they didn’t keep any records fearing the Dark Lord might discover them. The fewer people that knew of a mole, the more likely that mole could succeed. Please understand that nothing was black and white, as much as I believed it was back then.”  
Leaving Delia with his best Aurors, he motions for Andrew to follow and they casually enter the Swan Hotel. Finding Hermione and Ginny in her best afternoon dresses, he snags Ron and leads him towards the back. Grumbling, Ron whispers to Harry.  
“I feel like we’re back at Hogwarts…you know for that bloody ball.”  
Chuckling, Harry nods and accidentally bumps into a beautifully dressed woman. Apologizing, the woman giggles in response.  
“It’s okay Mr. Potter. Shall we sit?”  
Taken back by her knowing his name, he realizes he’s bumped into the very woman he’s spent the last 15 years hunting. With her short raven locks and round spectacles, he realizes she changed very little over the years. Stammering in surprise, he has to fight reaching for his wand. Ginny rolls her eyes, and breaks the ice.  
“It’s good to see you again Miss Hollander. It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?”  
Nodding Constance mulls over the time she dreamt of winning the attentions of the beautiful redhead in school.  
“Indeed Mrs. Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Not since Hogwarts, yes?”  
Harry senses there’s something he should be catching as he watches Ginny nod, but really can’t put his finger on it. His wife compliments Constance’s emerald green dress and matching boots. As he tries to keep up the small talk Ginny and Constance exchange, the doors to a private tea room open up, with Susan Bones and their barrister Ernie MacMillan inviting them inside. Hermione steps forward and cordially greets Susan and Ernie, complimenting them on their attire, and Harry follows suit, incapable of imagining anything original. As they find their seats, Andrew exits and immediately returns with the independent court stenographer who sits in the far corner of the room out of immediate sight. As tea is poured and everyone settles into their seats, Hermione takes out her prepared list of questions and begins going down it, line by line.

By early evening, at least an hour past tea time would have ended, Hermione finally closes her notepad as does Ernie. With the tea having run out, along with the pleasantries, Constance was mentally and physically exhausted. With everyone seemingly satisfied with the both the questions and answers, Hermione stands to address Constance and Susan.  
“I can’t speak for the ministry, but I am willing to go on the record to say that Miss Hollander has been very patient and understanding to level of questioning the ministry has asked of her. Furthermore, I see no reason pursue criminal charges against her. Unfortunately, the ministry will want a second turn at questioning and I’m told they want you to be under the charm of Veritaserum, and in confinement or isolation for 3 days to ensure you haven’t taken an antidote prior to administering the serum. If you are willing to do this, they are willing to make you innocent of charges official.  
As Ernie and Susan scream their objections, Constance’s meek voice carries over the din and reach the ears of the ministry officials.  
“I’ll do it. I’m tired of the whispering behind my back, the lies, and pain of what I did. I did torture my classmates, I have never denied that. I was under orders from Dumbledore to do anything it took to be a valuable member of the Dark Lord’s Deatheaters. Like Professor Snape, when I achieved my objective, I had accumulated a terrible burden on my soul. I’m willing to make reparations as per established law, and perform community service. I have unofficially been offered a job, and I’m willing to do so for the period in question, with my earnings going directly towards the reparations.”  
Barrister MacMillan immediately interjects before they lose tempo.  
“Furthermore, she has never killed anyone which would require confinement in Azkaban. There were only fifteen charges of assault, as she too was a minor at the time in question; so you cannot charge her with any crimes against children like you did in the case against Dolores Umbridge. That alone is grounds for dismissal of the majority of the charges against her. The remaining charges of evading arrest are just in question. She is resourceful enough to remain in hiding until her dying days, but she wishes to end this chase once and for all. There are numerous cases of precedence which show leniency in her situation. You deliberate with your superiors and contact me, but I will only allow her to stay in an isolation ward of our choosing. We are acutely aware what the ministry did 16 months ago and kidnapped a suspect while in isolation at the ministry. It took my firm eight months to FIND what hole you threw him in, and he was a vegetable once we got him released. We’re not doing that. Send me an owl when you’re ready to talk.”  
With a nod from Ernie, Constance grabs Susan’s wrist and they aperate from the table leaving behind a noticeable rosy red smoke in her wake. Shaking her head, Ginny leans over and asks Hermione the obvious question.  
“How does she do that?” 

It took over a week for Ernie to send an owl to Susan, confirming a time and place for the isolation suite. Though Susan wanted to stay with Constance, both Constance and Ernie convinced her keep her safe by monitoring the facility. Staying in Geneva was hardly cheap, but it was the best third-party location they could buy. The morning of the fourth day brought a team of aurors and three ministry barristers. Susan couldn’t fathom the rage that burned in Delia’s heart against Constance, and knew to keep her eyes on her above all. Aside from the aurors, the ministry officials were far more jovial than anyone expected, to the point of giddiness.   
After a round of vigorously warm handshakes, they couldn’t wait to administer the serum to Constance and question her. Ernie reassured Susan that the questions were the same ones from the high tea session, except a dozen which were clarifications from the previous session. Susan detested rendering Constance so vulnerable, but Constance insisted on this formal tribunal. With little fanfare, Douglas Brundlemok, the director of the Ministry Legal Department, delivers the serum and has the staff administer it. Waiting five minutes for the serum to take full effect, Douglas flips his notebook open and begins the next four hours of interrogation.   
With the aurors hawking over every shift or movement from Constance in her druggy Veritaserum-induced state, she blindly answers every moronic question for the hundredth time precisely as she had done previously. As she keeps from pulling her hair out from the endless recycling of questions to throw her off, Susan sees her flash comical facial gestures over her shoulder, showing she was hanging in. By the third hour, it was apparent Constance was becoming increasingly parched and Delia slinked out the door to play waitress. As Constance wraps up her latest string of questions, Delia returns as the second ministry official Findus Ferabus closes his book, satisfied with her responses. As she begins to relax, the last official Gordon Glubber makes a mark in his book and asks his final question.  
“Lastly Miss Hollander, and I mean lastly, do you have any ill will or feelings towards any of the ministry staff or representatives?”  
As Constance dwells over the question, on the other side of the observation window, Susan and Ernie scream at the ministry lawyers for allowing a vague and damning question which can only result in a negative result. Removed from the din of screams and obscenities from inside the observation room, Constance finally opens her mouth to speak.  
“Sir, I honestly can think of no person or position inside the ministry either current or in the past I have any lasting hatred or ill will towards. I know that the Dark Lord twisted the weak and powerless to commit crimes. I do know of many who had hate in their hearts, who either openly or from the shadows committed atrocities for you know who, but I don’t have any hate towards people. I also don’t know everyone who is connected with the ministry right now; so, personally speaking, it’s a very poor question to ask me.”  
Susan leans against the glass in awe and relief. As Gordon makes his final remarks in his book, he flashes annoyance with Delia who hovers in the back withholding the pitcher of water for Constance. Rolling her eyes, she pushes towards the table and sets down the pitcher with a glass. Returning to her position in the back of the room, she imagines she could be doing a dozen other horribly important tasks rather than standing uselessly in the sidelines. Gordon nods to his associates with a repressed smile and closes his book. Brundlemok stands as Constance nervously reaches out and pours herself a tall glass of water.   
“I want to thank everyone here today to sitting down and making this happen. Miss Hollander has been extremely compliant with our demands, and has satisfactorily answered all our questions. I am authorized to officially drop all charges seeing that you have previously made arrangements for reparations.”  
Seeing Constance nod approvingly after she downs half the glass, he continues as he motions for Susan and Ernie to join them.   
“My office will file all the scrolls, but as far as I’m concerned we’re done. Congratulations on your position at Hogwarts, I’m sure they have gained a valuable assistant professor.”   
He extends his hand to shake, but Constance refuses to do the same. As he starts to get angry Constance collapses to the floor with convulsions. As Damon Rake pulls out a brown object to force into Constance’s mouth to negate the poison, Delia shoves her way between them and smacks it out of his hand. She watches as Constance’s bright green eyes are rapidly consumed by a grey wash, sapping the life from every part of her body and her veins are etched with black ink. Reaching Constance’s head, she uncorks a vial with the flick of her thumb and pours the contents down Constance’s throat. Before Damon can object, Constance suddenly resumes breathing and lies motionless as Susan screams futilely Constance’s name.


	3. Unforgiven

Bursting into the conference room, Ernie and Susan are itching for their wands as they see six aurors standing hunched over a table whispering between them. As Susan begins to scream, Ernie silences her by making his voice heard over hers.  
“What in the Bloody Hell was that? This is how you deal with suspects? There is no authority which will support this criminal behavior from aurors!”  
Rising defensively, Andrew tries to lower the anger flowing through the room, motioning to calm own and bring hands away from wands.  
“Look! We didn’t do this! If there was anyone among us who was capable of doing this, it was the same person who saved Miss Hollander! If it weren’t for her knowledge and experience, we’d be answering for a murder rather than an attempted murder. The evidence has been taken back to the ministry for a detailed analysis, but Delia assures us it was poison called Cruor Interfectrix. She’s seen it before and recognized the effects, and the antidote is very specific. The standard remedies don’t work.”  
From his right, a tall older man in worn robes and clothes, whom Ernie knew as Auror Stevens, interjects on the tail of Andrew’s words.  
“The damn stuff is a contact poison; all it takes is skin contact to be lethal. Delia and I have seen it only twice before, and this is the first time there’s been a survivor. That girl of yours is blessed. Three of us were chasing a suspect when we split up to cut him off. Apparently Bill Swift caught up to him before we did, and he splashed a vial in his face. He was dead so fast that he didn’t have time to reach for his wand or an antidote, not that any antidote he was carrying would have helped. It turns the blood to black oil before it dries up in the veins. He was less than a minute ahead of us, and he was past saving when we found him.”   
Andrew clears his throat hearing the death of his mentor.  
“Delia spent a week with herbology developing an antidote, and it only works sixty percent of the time. Basically, Constance is lucky to be alive right now.”  
Ernie shakes his head as he paces.  
“Other than the obvious questions of how, when, and who, what is your department doing about all this?”  
Andrew uses his hands to calm Barrister MacMillan and relax.   
“The real problem is this means that someone hasn’t forgiven Miss Hollander like we have.”

Roused by a sense of urgency, Constance slams her eyes wide open, searching her surroundings, and fighting the terror driving her heart at a marathon rate. Against her feet, Susan naps while sitting uncomfortably in a chair. Recognizing the she’s still in her room in Geneva dressed in a hospital gown, she begins to sit up, only to collapse backwards into her pillow. Pain radiating from her stomach and abdomen subdues any thoughts of movement or appreciation for Susan’s presence. Susan immediately wakens feeling Constance shift under the sheets, and begins crying. As she begins to kiss Constance, she’s stopped by her lover, fearing any residual may be on her. With understanding, Susan insistently kisses her, before speaking.  
“You’ve been out since yesterday. We had to scrub you from head to toe to make sure there was no trace of it left, including your mouth. You were practically bleeding after they were done scrubbing you, so they healed you up the rest of the way.”  
Constance returns a second kiss.  
“I’m glad I was out…doesn’t sound like I would have enjoyed it much.”  
Susan nods numbly.   
“I wish I could have been unconscious for it. I doubt I’ll ever get those horrid images scoured from my memory.”  
Clearing her throat, she rises, extracts her wand, and summons a tray with a flask and two glasses into existence. Using a popular spell they mastered on the run, Susan observes the reluctance for Constance to take a drink. With a subtle grin she sets down the tray and hands Constance the glass of refreshingly cold water. With a heavy sigh Constance takes it and sips gingerly.  
“Any idea who has it in for me? Was it that Auror Delia or Potter-head?”  
Snickering hearing Harry Potter’s antagonizing nickname from school, Susan pulls the chair closer to Constance as she goes over the scrolls from the ministry.  
“No. That girl, Delia, she’s the one that saved your hide so you better be nice. They have no idea who’s responsible but they are sure the poison was on the glass, not the water. They took the evidence back with them, but I doubt they’ll find anything. Now Ernie says everything is in order, and we have proof that they have rescinded every arrest order ever issued. Furthermore, Hogwarts is aware of the financial arrangements and have approved your position. Headmaster Towmunders has your room ready and is expecting you as soon as you’re ready to travel. I have no idea how you’re going to balance being the assistant to two different professors.”  
Constance sips at her water before replying.   
“Well, Professor Hagrid needs me to help during the day mostly, and Professors Locke and Bentower actually want me to be a full-time tutor like I was doing when I was a student. Apparently, everything I did before and during the Umbridge years was remembered. Neville Longbottom is a professor there now, and Professor Flitwick is still teaching. They always approved of my methods and my principle of disregarding house borders when it came to tutoring. By offering tutoring after hours for both potions and defense against the dark arts, it will raise OWL and NEWT scores in the long run. Besides, most students don’t want to do badly, and it will improve everyone’s self-esteem. Technically, I’m just the assistant professor to Hagrid, but I’ll be wearing many hats.”  
Susan notices the glow in Constance and rubs her hand affectionately.  
“You’ll do fine. The doctors say you can go after a few more days. The poison did a number on your blood and stomach, so they just want to be safe. We’re hawking over every item which is brought in here, and we’re not taking any chances.”  
After another sip of water, Constance sighs loudly.  
“So…someone is extremely unforgiving. I deserve that, but not like this. I’ll address this with the headmaster when I arrive. I’ll suggest that I not be given oversight over detentions for a while.”  
Sharing in a brief laugh, Constance rolls on to her side clutching her belly. 

Walking slowly down Diagon Alley dodging the occasional couple and vendor, Constance clutches tightly to Susan’s arm for support. For the first time in fifteen years, she and Susan could openly walk the streets without fear of being attacked or arrested on sight. Wearing her usual doomsday cloak over her long black dress, she is surprised that more people aren’t hiding in the shadows or ducking into the shops as they approach. With the clack of her heels on the cobbled street, she notices dozens of people who recognize her and duck into nearby shops. Window shopping, they turn down a number of streets before finally arriving at the entrance of Gringotts Bank. Unlike their walk to the distinguished bank, they are immediately approached and welcomed by a small evil-looking goblin. In his finely pressed suit and shiny shoes, he bows slightly as he addresses them.  
“Good day Mistresses Hollander and Bones. Everything is in order, but first your keys.”  
Susan dips into the breast pocket in her jacket and extracts a pair of silver keys. Taking them, the goblin scrutinizes them before handing them back.  
“Very well, right this way.”  
Trotting along after a lengthy ride, they finally arrive at a massive safe door. With no fanfare he gets them into the vault and goes to the end of the hall to wait. With the majority of their belongings and wealth hidden away in this small vault they spend ten minutes tucking essential items into bottomless bags and a travel trunk bound for Hogwarts. Constance tosses tightly wrapped packages of clothing down into the nearly bottomless trunk and looks around the vault one last time. With chests of gold and silver neatly stacked along the walls, she opens a larger trunk filled with household belongings. Fishing through it, she closes it and places a large silver frame into the trunk bound for Hogwarts. As Constance starts to ask, Susan stops her.  
“I promised myself that as soon as we were free of the persecution I would have portraits made, and I’ve scheduled us for a siting this week…the day before you head to Hogwarts.”  
Rolling her eyes, Constance can’t believe the simple audacity of getting portraits made. As Constance imagines objecting, she smiles and shakes her head. Susan rushes to her begging.  
“Please! We’ve never had pictures really done like regular couples do, and I really want this bit of earned normality. I have a shopping trip planned today and tomorrow, and then we can get the pictures made.”  
Continuing to shake her head in disbelief, Constance finishes packing her trunk and seals it. Using a levitation spell it glides out the door as Susan pockets half a chest of gold in her bag. As she carelessly pours the contents into the bag she suddenly stops herself. From the years on the road, they rarely had more than a few minutes to gather as much gold into their pockets before making a rapid escape from aurors. And for the first time in over 15 years, they weren’t running out the door, scrambling for cover. With a proud grin, she neatly closes and replaces the chest in its proper place before turning towards the door to join Constance. As they slide their vault closed, she addresses the goblin patiently waiting down the hall.  
“I believe my aunt left me her vault and earnings. I’d like to review the books and the contents of her vault please.”  
With a dramatic bow, he aperates Constance’s trunk away to the shipping room, and motions to join him in the trolley. After another brief ride, they arrive at the older and larger vaults. After unlocking the vault, he finally speaks.  
“Your parents and aunt were wise investors, and enjoyed a reasonable level of risk versus most wizards and witches. With that greater risk came higher losses and higher profits. Furthermore in their wills, your parents and aunt had their most valuable and precious belongings moved here after their deaths. The books.”  
Constance swipes them from his small hands as Susan hurriedly enters the vault. Flipping open the latest account book, Constance cannot fathom the risk the goblins were referring to. With large eight digit sums of gold, she tracks how the massive number became so large over the past ten years. The goblin notices how acutely Constance is reading the books and speaks as she reaches the end of the book.  
“With the fall of the dark lord, all business was great and profitable, more so for those who wagered more gold. The Bones were willing to wager far more, and though it only hurt them once, they recovered and profited phenomenally.”  
Constance nods as she turns the page and discovers the loss her was referring to. As she picks up her jaw, she seethes uncontrollably.  
“Over nine million in immediate losses? I heard we had a massive recession, but damn!”  
Nodding the goblin continues.  
“Many wizard families went broke overnight. The Bones always accepted great risk, and they had a superb buffer in case that day happened. As you can see, they recovered quite well.”  
Chatting, Constance meanders into the vault to join Susan who stands five feet past the door. As she tugs on Susan’s coat to read the books, Susan reaches over and lifts Constance’s chin out of the books and up towards the walls of the vault. Annoyed, Constance finally gives in and feels the blood drain away. From the back walls 90 feet away, bars of gold lay stacked in neat piles. Their goblin banker clears his throat.  
“We started out using chests for the coins, but after a few years, we were running out of room. So to keep the coins in circulation we slowly transitioned to bars when we could. The gold stays as paper until we accumulate enough to become a bar, and then we deposit it in here.”  
Numb in shock and awe, Constance points towards the books.  
“These…these aren’t gold coins in the books are they?”  
Shaking his head he smiles proudly.  
“No. Those are in the standard bank gold units or BGUs.”  
Susan walks over to the wall of gold and taps one of the massive bars of gold.  
“Is this one BGU?”  
Wearing his toothy smile he nods approvingly.  
“In the connecting vault is where we placed you family’s heirlooms.”   
Overwhelmed, Susan can only motion to continue, flabbergasted at her new found wealth.


	4. Homecomings

After duplicating all the bank books, Constance tosses them into her bags and collects her stuff. Joining Sara in her family’s vault, she finds her flipping through a box of photo albums and heirlooms. Seeing the weight on her soul, Constance slides up to Sara and wraps her arm over her shoulders. Wiping the stray tear aside, she flips through the pages and reminisces over her youth. Despite Constance’s suggestion to take them with her, Susan chooses to leave them in the vault and neatly closes the box they came from. Rising, she picks up her bags and leads Constance from the vaults. Sealing the vaults, the goblin returns them to the entrance and expedites the delivery of the trunks.  
Making their way to Diagon Alley, Constance peruses the list of supplies Professor Jullian Bentower, head professor for potions, recommended she purchase before arriving. Though Professor Rubeus Hagrid gave no special list for his class, Constance was sure there would be a list items of he forgot to mention. She couldn’t imagine Hagrid changing that much over the years. Thumbing through the shops and stores along the famous alley, Constance reveled in the ability to safely walk the streets, a far cry from just a year prior. As she selects a few sets of clothes to take with her, she eventually convinces Susan to wander into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Taking a mental inventory of the latest products and innovations since she was a student, she gathers a few novelty items and leaves after paying. As she prepares to exit, George Weasley steps out from the side and blocks their path. Clearing his throat, he looks the pair over before speaking.  
“I hear you are heading back to Hogwarts…as a professor again. Is that true?”  
Nodding, Constance takes a controlled breath before replying. “I was asked to return by Headmaster Lucinda Towmunders. She was the key official who got the ministry involved, as well as the previous headmaster, Minerva McGonagall. It’s complicated Mr. Weasley, as I explained to your brother Ronald. I heard he left your store just to assist Mr. Potter as an Auror, sorry.”  
George rolls his jaw and moves aside. “Ron and I discussed that long ago, so its water under the bridge. I’m just worried that not everyone will be as welcoming as I am. I doubt everyone has forgotten about some of the stuff it is reported you did during Headmaster Snape’s tenure.”  
Constance nods in agreement. “I doubt I will ever forget what I did during that brief year. Albus Dumbledore asked me to sleep with the enemy at all costs, and to this very day I wish I never agreed to it. I will be paying for my crappy decision made when I was fourteen years old for the rest of my life. While Potter-head was both hero and wanted man, I was forced to be as vile and evil as I could muster to impress you know who.”  
As tears roll down Constance’s cheeks, Susan steps up and interjects boldly. “No one could see how we had to convince her to continue on and keep from killing herself, day after day. She was a shambles, and I’m responsible for making her continue when she wanted to quit and run. So if anyone wants to place blame, blame me!”  
Raising his hands defensively, he nods while replying. “Okay! Okay. I understand. Besides, I was never around for all that, but we know Dumbledore gave some really confusing orders that even Harry couldn’t understand most of the time. That man knew how to twist words with the best of them. My wife Angelina knew a few from your Lion’s Guard so I know there’s some truth to what you say, but it is hard to swallow. Understand?”  
Nodding, Susan leads Constance out and back down the alley.   
Exiting the train station at Hogwarts, Constance reminisces from her youth and forgets she’s standing beside dozens of young professors and assistants like herself. Arriving three weeks prior, all young academics were required to complete their training early before any students arrived. Spending their time reviewing policies, procedures and expectations from their department heads, Constance beams admiration in the changes. Wishing they had been implemented when she was a new professor, she privately praised the policies despite Susan’s complaints. Losing three valuable weeks, she endures her wife’s assurances and adoration of the new school policy. Though implemented during Headmaster McGonagall’s tenure, Constance couldn’t help but refer to it as new. Susan eventually accepted the policy in stride, deciding to spend the long three weeks renting a room in the nearby town. Hogsmead had limited space, but Susan had become a shrewd bargainer and negotiator from their years on the run. Constance never asked the details or inquired how she found accommodations, but was grateful her wife was able to dine with her practically every day. 

Entering Professor Hagrid’s small abode, she relished how little it changed since she was a student. Noting a few recent additions like the fire and pixie-proof screens and netting, Constance admired his simple life in the countryside. Accepting a cup of steaming tea, she delicately drifts through the room admiring the eclectic decorations. Shown a seat across from his massive window, she waits until he shoves Fang out of the remaining chair before sinking into the dusty old furniture. She looks her trousers and shirt over once before sitting back in the dusty old chair. Hagrid clears his throat, sending a massive rumbling wave through the air.   
“I really got better at planning my classes thanks to Minerva’s…err…Headmaster McGonagall’s help. I spend these weeks making sure I’ve planned out everything I can. Some of the creatures I want to teach about can be a bit spirited, and the safety of the students is always my primary concern.”  
He pauses to laugh.  
“Listen to me, talking all fancy-like. Look, you’re my first real assistant, and I pretty much do things as I always have. I’ll need your help getting the creatures or controlling them, or if I have more than one, or just getting them back to their pen or, well, anything that comes up. Towmunders came to me and asked, because I’ve never had one, and everyone else has had an assistant at one time or another.”  
Constance nods, takes a sip of her tea, and replies.  
“I’m happy anyone would want me as an assistant professor after everything. Professors Locke and Bentower also want me to head their tutoring programs.”  
Hagrid laughs and nods.  
“Yes, well, Professor Bentower sees tutoring outside of class as coddling, and Professor Locke is trying to protect his position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Bentower and him are serious rivals and it seems you’re going to be caught in between their fights. You watch yourself there! I’m not sure if they are willing to take it to wands, but I remember hearing of duels starting for far less then these two have done to the other.”  
Constance takes another sip of tea.  
“Nice. Don’t suppose you have another cottage out here I could move in to?”  
Laughing, Hagrid shakes his head.  
“Fraid’ not!” As his hearty chuckles rattle the walls, Constance relishes in the warmth he exudes towards her. Catching his breath finally, he inhales sharply with an idea.  
“You know, that’s not a bad idea, seeing that you are my assistant, right? I’ll talk with the headmaster and see what it will take to get that done. It would be nice to have someone else out here to keep an eye on the little creatures I have out here better. I can’t be everywhere all the time, now can I?”  
Nodding in agreement, Constance finishes her tea and lets Hagrid show her the creatures he’ll be covering. From Flying Golden Shrews to Dancing Fire Frogs, the list of unique and magical creatures amazes Constance. Returning to her room before lunch, she opens her closet and reviews the outfits she brought. Flipping through a dozen different trouser and shirt combinations, she decides to split her attire between dresses and skirts for inside the castle, and everything else when she is helping Hagrid. Making a short list, she decides later to send an owl to Susan to buy and send to her.   
After she changes back into her castle robes, Constance meanders to the dungeons and finds Professor Locke with his nose deep in the latest issue of Magical Defense Today, and his feet propped on top of his desk. Knocking on the door frame, Constance smiles as he yanks his nose out of the magazine and sits up straight. Jumping out of his chair, he smiles seeing the nation’s once most wanted standing outside his office.  
“Miss Hollander! It’s an honor to finally meet you. Please come in and have a seat.”  
After shaking his hand, she takes a seat beside him, crosses one leg over the other, and fixes the skirt of her dress.   
“Thank you professor. Headmaster Towmunders has only mentioned she wanted me to teach a tutoring course, after hours, for your course and potions. I guess all I’m trying to say is how do you want me help you?”  
Nodding in agreement, he straightens up while listening to her, then relaxes by placing his elbows on his desk and lets his hands fall forward.   
“Honestly Miss Hollander, I see no value to your tutoring, but I am willing to try and evaluate the value it adds to our school.”  
Constance smiles subtly and nods while listening to him continue.  
“I do not dismiss or belittle your vast experience in my field, as your firsthand knowledge in these matters is without question. Your singular accomplishments in magical defense are irrefutable and I cannot discount your valuable experience you bring to Hogwarts both in my course and potions. To be perfectly honest, I think you could easily be the potions professor, over Jullian Bentower. He has undoubtedly falsified his credentials to get the position, but my sources say he has bribed everyone who would know the truth, or has accumulated enough trash to keep them quiet.”  
Constance uses every last bit of control to keep from losing her flat emotionless composure. After listening to another half-hour of his rantings, she finally gets him back onto his course material for his classes, and takes half a book of notes to refer back to. With only a couple of spells she’s unfamiliar with, she asks him to send her a list of every book he’s using so she can have them sent to her.   
Leaving the office, she goes down the hall to Professor Bentower’s office. Finding him seated nearly identical as Locke with the latest issue of Potions Today and feet propped atop the corner of his desk, he throws his feet off when she softly raps against his door. The international publication was one of many to litter his coffee table, along with national favorites like Potion World, Bubbling Brews and Elixirs Monthly, and the ever popular Poisonous Philter. Constance was privy to the last publication in particular, after being on the run for so long. Too many bounty hunters utilized both legal and illegal concoctions to apprehend wanted suspects for the ministry, and she would love to send an owl to the magazine to thank them for keeping her abreast of the latest cocktail of horrible poisons some hunters employed. Though she doubted they would be as appreciative that their magazine was responsible for keeping one of the nation’s most wanted out of Azkaban, she always wanted to thank them appropriately. The best she could do was to purchase a five-year subscription.  
“Ah it’s you! Please come in Ms. Hollander! Have a seat.”  
After shaking hands, she sits politely, crosses her legs, and adjusts her skirt. After politely refusing a cup of tea, she lets him take control of the conversation and answers his superficial questions of her settling in and finding her office in order. Sensing the end of the polite conversation, Constance breaks the ice by diving straight into the purpose of her visit.  
“Well, the Headmaster asked me to head up the tutoring program, and I just need to know what your course material will cover, like a list of the potions you will cover and when for each class. I don’t need everything right now, but a week or two before would be splendid.”  
Nodding dramatically, he takes out a prepared notebook and slides it over to Constance.  
“I suspected you would need this. These are my course plans for all my potion courses I will be teaching this year. I would appreciate you will come to me and report on any notable incidents you have during your tutoring. Professor Locke has little care or concern for the progress of his students outside his classes, but I like to know of the progress of notable and not so notable students. I truly do not see how he can be the Defense against the Dark Arts with the inexperience he has. I suspect he has some powerful friends in the ministry to make sure he doesn’t get fired every year.”  
Enduring another half hour of his distrust of his colleague, Constance uses every ounce of her stamina to keep from reacting visibly to his shameful opinions. He eyes dart around the room trying not to lose her cool, and she realizes he had closed his door after she entered. Nodding politely, she lets him carry-on until finally his fire burns out and he smiles proudly. After rising, he shows her the door and says his door is always open for her. After exchanging another round of firm handshakes, she exits the office and heads back to her own office to scream privately under her pillow.


	5. Hate Mail

Constance made handling the fire frogs far easier than it should have to the first years. Hagrid wanted to emphasize the dangerous aspect of their acid saliva and how it could be ignited, but Constance instinctively flipped its mouth at the last moment before it released a long string of mucus and saliva, igniting a moment later. Breathing a sigh of relief, she injects into Hagrid’s speech.   
“There’s a trick a handling these little guys, as with many creatures. These frogs actually make a guttural growl in their lower belly just as they are regurgitating the acidic bile and mixing it with their saliva. The bile actually will ignite instantly when exposed to air, so the saliva gives it a few moments before it bursts into flames. Then the saliva is super sticky, so it stays where it lands. As I said before…”  
Constance repositions the frog once again as it hurls a stream of flaming spit and the young students leap back cautiously letting Constance continue with a grin.  
“…they let you know they about to do something, and you just have to be observant, keep your wits, and be ready for the unexpected.”  
Hagrid nods his head in a huge bobbing motion.  
“Exactly! Every year there are at least 500 injuries to people handling these little buggers; that’s by professional like us, here. Professor Hollander and I have a great deal of experience handling dangerous creatures like these and every one of them has their own special way of being handled. I remember a time I was nursing a fire-breathing dragon and if he hick-upped, he’d shoot out a foot of flame right at-cha!”  
Hagrid’s bone-rattling chuckles flow through the assembled students and do little to reassure their nervous demeanors. Breaking into two groups, they have them take turns handling the fire-spitting amphibians. One by one they practice holding the offensive creature as it attempts to get the person holding it to let it go. Unable to use its teeth to grasp the holder, it tries in vain to spit at the students, but the class ends with no one being rushed to see the nurse. Hagrid dismisses the class and leads Constance to the steel cages built to house the small animals. Content with hopping around in the metal cells, they latch them closed and exit the stone house. Devoid of anything flammable, the small building protected the frogs from the frigid mornings until they were transferred back to the national magical zoo in Edenborough at the semester’s end.  
Headmaster McGonagall headed up the loan program to reduce the costs of the school, and it benefitted all magical schools by not having to house the creatures all year long. It did require a new testing pattern for Hagrid, as the animals he tested over were not available at the end of the year. The practical testing was accomplished before the Christmas break, and the academic portion was tested at the very end. It took Hagrid a couple of years, but he finally came around and preferred the system over the old. Though he missed having the creatures around, he enjoyed having a variety of magical animals in his classes, and now he a wand-wielding assistant to help around class. Relying on magical gadgets to accomplish what most wizards accomplished with a wand, he appreciated her presence and assistance.   
With minutes to spare, the next class of third-years begins strolling down from the castle and they extract a pair of wily burrowing armadillos. Careful to not let them out of the stone building, the creatures came with the special care instruction from the zoo. The pair they sent were exceptionally adept at escape and Hagrid was verbally warned to keep an eye on them. The previous school failed to heed their warnings, and it took them three weeks to recover the animals. With one of the few creatures which was both genetically and magically altered to assist in the fire-ant plague in the states, Hagrid felt blessed to be one of the few outside of the national zoos to have them for his classes. Using them for all of his classes beyond the second years, he spent all the previous year preparing his class schedules. With the new system, he could no longer wing-it and required him to preplan every small detail. After eight years, he was finally becoming accustomed to the process.   
As the last class meandered back to the castle for lunch, Hagrid invites Constance to his cottage. As they finish washing, a pair of house elves deliver their lunches and aperate away. Sitting, they continue to discuss the pros and cons of the textbook they are using, and how to teach the material they have. As they are finishing, Hagrid leaves the table to present Constance with a scroll he received. Eating the last of her chicken and salad, Constance sets her plate aside and opens the ornate scroll. Noting the National Parks and Zoos Foundation logo at the top, she skims through the scroll nodding.  
“So, they propose a number of creatures to put on display, and we basically say yay or nay?”  
Hagrid nods as his enormous voice booms back. “Pretty much. I wanted the Dire Hog and Death-head snake, but Headmaster said the snake would be too difficult to contain so I put in for our frogs. With my request for a new keep for my creatures and staff…” Constance smirks comically hearing his emphasis of her position. “…this will help get some more exotic and magical beasties at the school. Did you know that the Greystone college in the states and the Briary school in Australia each have their own budget! They are given between eight and twelve percent of the school’s budget to teach about magical creatures and all we get here is less than two!”  
Nodding in agreement, Constance takes a large swallow of juice before speaking.  
“I know, Hagrid. I went to both those schools. They have their own separate facilities connected to the main castle via tunnels and walkways, and they put out the best keepers and caregivers in the world. There’s a serious rivalry between them and the school in Malaysia, can’t think of its name though. They are all on the map for the best schools to attend to be a caretaker for the magical creature zoos around the world, and Hogwarts is lucky to send out people to help with caring for dragons. We’re not even in the runner-up category…we’re the other one.”  
Laughing because it wasn’t funny, Hagrid sits down and shakes his head in frustration.   
“You’re m’only expert on them, what can we do better that they are do’in?”  
With a weighty sigh, Constance shakes her head too as she replies. “Well first, we need our own facility. It would be nice if we could safely get students here and back no matter if there’s twelve feet of snow on the ground. I can’t tell you how many times me or someone I was with slipped and nearly broke an arm or leg hiking down here. If we could get a nice paved road for when the weather is good or blah, and a tunnel or covered walkway for when it’s not, we could at least make it safer.”   
Hagrid takes out a scroll and quickly jots Constance’s thoughts. Spending another half-hour brainstorming until the next class begins meandering down from the castle, they layout an outline on how they could improve the class. The rest of the day goes as the beginning, and they end it without incident or bloodshed. Strolling back to the castle for dinner, they work out a proposal and Constance spends the evening writing it out. As the staff carouse and carryon at the table, Constance eyes Headmaster Towmunders casually slide in from the far corner of the room and work her way towards the center chair. As she passes behind Constance, she pauses and lays her hand on her arm. Constance quickly wipes her mouth and turns. “Yes, Headmaster?”  
Lucinda smiles casually. “Would you be so kind as to meet me in my office after dinner? There’s some business I need to discuss privately.”  
Constance bows her head low and deep. “As you wish, Headmaster.”  
As the evening progresses, several of the professors stop and chat with Hagrid regarding his “Flaming Frogs.” Mostly out of curiosity, several of the younger professors had overheard their students abuzz with their experience and wanted to know more. Assistant Professor Demetria Flowerblossum, a bright-eyed blonde in the Herbology department, admitted to never having seen one up close and requested to fix her problem. Rubeus laughs in his jovially boisterous voice and tells her she can come by anytime, while Gerald Goldwand, a young Transfigurations Assistant professor with dark hair similar to Constance’s, says he’d join Demetria when she visits. He’d been courting Demetria’s affections for over a year, and it appeared he was finally making some headway. It was obvious he had little concern for seeing the actual frogs, but Constance saw nothing disdainful in it.  
With few duties the first week, Constance’s first tutoring class wouldn’t begin until Sunday afternoon and evening. Spread out every three or four days, it would increase in tempo as the school year progressed, until she was hosting a session every evening, except on Saturdays. Saturdays were the only evening she was given to herself, and she could venture down to Hogsmead to meet with Susan and keep an eye on the students. She was happy to read that Susan was finally employed. Picked up by a popular travel publication, the Wandering Wizard, she spent her days reviewing travel sites and giving her recommendations of places to stay, especially if they are on a budget. Constance would never imagine their years on the run could be turned into a profitable vault of experience. Susan complained she spent days discussing with the editor what areas they should cover and how long it had been since she’d traveled there. Working backwards, she developed a small list and there was talk the publisher would pay for investigative trips if Susan’s work paid off. Much would be accomplished during the peak season, so Constance foresaw their summers filled with travel.

Watching the headmaster rise after finishing her dinner, Constance excuses herself and follow discreetly in her elder’s wake. Constance slows as the Headmaster slows her pace, and abruptly turns to face the spectacled young professor.  
“Many rumors said that you would behave like this, an obedient and submissive child who had a murderous disposition hidden deep within, but I only see the shy and submissive girl around authority figures. When you are with Rubeus you don’t behave like this, so I expect the same. I am not vile and malevolent overlord around my castle, so please relax. Constance…it means steadfast and knowledgeable. Everyone I’ve ever talked to said that about you.”  
Motioning for the young professor to join her, she continues as they walk back towards Lucinda’s office. “I always heard that when you put your heart into a task, that even if they throw a house at you, you will not be deterred.”  
Constance shakes her head in embarrassment. “Hey, for the record, I was half-awake when the auror threw it at us, and the only spell that popped in my head was a transformation spell. I had no idea he was terrified of spiders or I might not have done that.”  
Lucinda stops abruptly and spins around in surprise. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t have used a spell which was highly appropriate because it would have played at his phobia of spiders?”   
Nodding firmly, Constance stands her ground. “I wouldn’t because that’s not how I operate. I have morals and I’m driven by justice. Besides, that spell wasn’t as good as it was supposed to be. I only stopped the house portion, not the roof flying towards us. Susan took care of that.”  
Lucinda nods understandingly. “Yes, and the house turned into a mass of spiders which began to rain down on the aurors who sent it at you with their little webs in the air. If it weren’t for that, they would have been able to bring the roof right on top of you two, and Susan wouldn’t have been able to stop it. The spiders were harmless, but the aurors were dancing around like school girls shaking them out of their clothes. A friend of mine saw the after action report they filed.”  
Constance can’t restrain her vile grin remembering the day. “That’s how I got Potter and Weasley’s wands. They were too busy with the shower of spiders, that I was able to disarm them with a flick of the wrist. Susan wrapped them up with some rope, and we left them there covered in spiders. I actually sent the ministry an owl right away to free them.”  
Lucinda stops before entering her office to quickly reply. “And that’s why I even considered accepting your application as an assistant professor. Despite being labeled a criminal, you hold true to your moral compass and don’t go the way everyone expects you to.”  
Constance nods. “I heard Ronald Weasley left the department afterwards and helped his brother with his store. I always felt I had something to do with that.”  
Still grinning as she sits in her office chair, she nods in agreement and clears her throat. “Yes, I would imagine so. Speaking of aurors…”  
From the entrance of the tower, Aurors Delia Ramone and Andrew Middleton climb the last set of stairs and bow politely to Headmaster Towmunders. Only Andrew gives the same respect to Constance, as Delia still firmly held onto the fires burning in her chest. Andrew notices Delia’s defiance and can only shake his head.  
“Headmaster! Thank you for seeing us at such a late hour. Have you discussed the security arrangements with miss Hollinder yet?”  
Constance turns to the headmaster with a quizzical expression. Before she can speak, Lucinda interjects.  
“I’m afraid not. Constance, yesterday we received a death threat against you from an anonymous owl sent from Edenborough and the ministry sent an auror. His opinion was to keep an eye on you until they find out who is behind this. The Daily Prophet has agreed not to cover this, and it isn’t going to be published. It was addressed to you and a nasty contact curse was on it. After the incident in the ward prior to your arrival, I made sure the house elves checked every scroll and letter coming into the school. This one would have been lethal had you touched it.”   
An anger burns inside Constance as she stands between them. “I refuse to cower and hide as this coward strikes from the shadows…like a Death Eater. I refuse to play a helpless victim here.”   
Lucinda shakes her head as she notices the wide grin on Auror Middleton. “I told you. Nonetheless Constance, you are going to restrict your movements to the castle grounds until further notice.”  
Andrew immediately injects himself into the conversation before Constance can object further. “Professor Hollinder, I would suggest you make arrangements for your wife to stay here in the castle when she visits, and travel here via the Floo network. Auror Ramone will accompany you on your daily route and will check everything before you handle or use it. I’ll be roving the grounds and act as the bobby on high street. I’ll be everywhere.”  
Constance shakes her head. “I can’t believe this. Well, I’ll start wearing my gloves again. I still have several pairs of gauntlet gloves I used to wear.” Constance paces briefly in front of Delia before finally agreeing to their terms. “Well Miss Ramone, let’s go. I need to get my beauty rest.”  
Delia and Andrew inspected Constance’s small quarters, flipping and inspecting every object as if they were looking for a package from the famed Unabomber. With the bed declared safe, Constance sits at the foot and slips off her boots as the pair go over her room meticulously. After nearly an hour, they declare it free of curses and contraband. Though Constance had several items which were explicitly labeled as illegal for wizards to own, like magical strangulating wire and spitting viper rings, she wisely kept them in secret pockets in her robes. Though she was sure no one would dare attack her on school grounds, the death threat only verified her reasoning for keeping them close to her at all times.   
Satisfied with their search, the pair retreat and Delia takes the first shift outside Constance’s door. Constance viewed the security as an in-house arrest but took the accommodations in stride. Enjoying the luxury of running warm water in her room, she takes an evening shower to unwind and relax before bed. Changing into her silky midnight-blue gown Susan had bought her a year ago, she slides into her expensive silk sheets, longing for Susan’s presence to warm them up with her.


End file.
